


Kiss and Make it Better

by Dreamicide



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamicide/pseuds/Dreamicide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Broken toenails are just another part of ballet, but that doesn't make it any less painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss and Make it Better

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an old dead kink meme. Prompt was foot fetishism.

A sharp yelp of pain breaks the flow of practice and Fakir whips his head around. It's late in the day after classes have ended, but he stays to keep her company while she does some extra practice.

Fakir sees her landing on the floor, clutching tightly against her bound foot and whimpering with tears in her eyes before he automatically stops what he's doing to rush over to her.

"What happened."

He watches her wince when she raises her head. "I-I'm still not… u-used to them…"

Fakir understands immediately. Pointe shoes. He spots a small red dot blooming from the very edge of the footwear and he crouches down. And he silently orders her not to move with an intent stare as he reaches lower to cup the curve of her ankle in the palm of his hand, drawing it up closer.

Ahiru instantly protests. "Ah, wait! It's all right! I can bandage it on my own! There's a—"

"Quiet, idiot."

The redhead shoots a flat glare in response, despite the pain making her eye twitch. "Don't hafta be  _mean_ about it." And again, she tries drawing her foot away, squeaking when his fingers constrict around their hold and keep her leg still. Ahiru hesitantly stops resisting, turning away with an angry pout on her face before making a pained noise when he begins to unwrap the ribbons.

Her feet really are nice, he notices to himself while he works on removing the shoe. They're small, just like her entire self. And now that she's started practicing with pointe shoes, she's been getting more calluses and broken nails. They're not delicate and dainty, but show the wear and tear of dedication—despite how poor her ballet skills may be. It's admirable, looking at them.

Fakir peels off the rest of the shoe carefully and Ahiru's breath hitches from the cold air brushing against her injury. She only wants to grab it and hold it to rock back and forth until the pain magically goes away but he has a tight grip on her and she whimpers.

Her big toenail has a split down one side, blood trickling out from the crevice and small droplets falling here and there. He holds the curve of her foot as tenderly as he can, such a gruesome sight not being anything new to him, being around so many other girls working with pointe shoes. There's a sniffle from above, and he begins softly touching the back of her ankle, moving up and down. Almost soothing.

"Th-there's a," Ahiru starts, lifting a wavering finger to the entrance of the practice room, "there's a first-aid kit… I think." She thinks, because she's used so many items from the kit since first beginning en pointe that she's not quite sure if there are even any supplies left.

Fakir doesn't reply to her words, instead declaring, "You were pushing yourself too hard, idiot. You're obviously not stretching properly."

"I-I am stretching properly!" she retorts, eyebrows furrowing and forgetting the pain for a moment. "I'm doing my best!"

He ignores her again, and calls her an idiot one more time for good measure. Ahiru wants to rebuttal against the name but the words catch in her throat when he suddenly leans down and presses a tender kiss to the top of her foot.

She blinks and is immediately confused. Fakir has kissed her before, yes, many times in fact. But never in such a strange spot… and out of nowhere when she was bleeding profusely.

He blushes slightly and abruptly looks away upon meeting her curious eyes. "… It's a stupid thing I heard when I was a brat. Kissing away the pain."

"Oh!" Ahiru nods, eyes wide and suddenly understanding. "Y-Yeah, I think I remember one of my friends saying something like that…" But honestly, her memory is poor. She shifts on the floor awkwardly when he doesn't make any more moves like that and continues rubbing her ankle.

But after a few more silent moments, Fakir softly places the ball of her foot back on the ground and stands up. "Wait here," he explains, "I'll go get bandages."

He leaves her sitting there for a few moments, the feel of his fingers still lingering on her soles and watching the blood flow from her nail beginning to slow. Maybe she really wasn't stretching properly? She's had broken nails before and they hurt more than anything, but…

The thoughts are interrupted when he's suddenly before her again and crouches down with a little white box in his hands. "This'll sting," he warns as he brings out some cotton and a bottle, dabbing it in the liquid and drawing forth to her split toenail.

Ahiru blinks once, allowing him to pick her foot up again, before—

"OWW—!"

On reflex, she tries yanking her foot out of his grip. But as always, his hold is too tight, and she's left whimpering again as he continues forcing the antibiotic almost harshly against the wound. Tears prickle the corners of her eyes. "Ah—Fakir, it's too—!  _Stop, it hurts!_ " The last part is almost screeched into the air, and not a moment later did the sudden sting of pain subside, leaving behind a steady throb.

Ahiru opens her eyes to look over at Fakir, softly hiccuping, and watches as he puts away the cotton and bottle before drawing out a roll of bandages. Her bottom lip juts out in an angry pout as she stares him down. In return, he ignores her irritated look with ease, wrapping the injured toe in an ample amount of gauze before tying it off in a small knot.

"Don't make such a big deal out of a little pain, moron."

"Y-You didn't have to press so hard! And it still hurts, you jerk!"

He's packed up the little white box again, but has yet to release her foot from his grip. "Hmph. It's already bandaged. You'll just have to deal with it for the time being." Then he adds, giving her a condescending look out of the corner of his eye, "It's what you deserve for being such an idiot about your practice in the first place."

Her jaw drops, eyebrows curved downward in irritation. Then, without thinking, she crosses her arms over her leotard and huffs, "… Then  _kiss_ it again."

It's his turn to blink. "What?"

At the last moment, Ahiru turns her head away, a light blush dotting her cheeks. "W-Well  _you're_  the one who said it… th-that kisses make pain go away." Her eyes fall to the floor, pout still in place on her lips. "It… did help a little… last time." And it did surprise her. Yes, she always feels better about anything when Fakir kisses her, but that was always somewhere on her face, and never about  _physical_  pain. But when she felt his lips on the top of her foot… it actually drew her mind away from the pain for a long moment. It tingled.

It's still eyebrow-raising to Fakir. And he does so for a minute, watching her sitting across from him, uninjured leg curled under her and the other outstretched in his hands. It was just a stupid gimmick little kids did when they tripped and scraped their knees. Mommy would kiss it and make them feel better. Isn't Ahiru too old for something like that?

But her insistence makes him roll his eyes, shrugging. "All right." And he leans down again, pressing another soft kiss to the area above her bandage.

"… Mm." Her blush deepens a little when he adheres to her request. She feels that tingle again, that strange little something that felt like it was magically lessening the throbbing pain of her split nail. But when he doesn't lift his head back up like he did before, she tilts her own a little.

Her foot is so small in his hand. The callused curve fits into his palm so well and for a moment he forgets, just lets his lips stay static on the skin of her foot. Then, slowly, he brings it closer to him and he kisses another patch of skin, just as light, just as chaste.

Ahiru finds that she likes it when he kisses her more. There is more tingling where it should be painful, and she almost forgets about the red bleeding through the bandage on the edge of her toe.

Fakir kisses her more. He peppers small presses of the lips, gradually moving up her foot until he reaches the joint between her leg and foot, and doesn't resist the urge to slip his tongue out just barely to accompany the last.

… He likes doing this because he can touch her. Just right there on her leg. He can't touch her with eagerness on any other part of her body, where he so  _wants_ to touch her. Her neck, her shoulders, her chest, her stomach, her back… only in the recesses of his mind can he ever think of it.

She is too innocent and wants nothing more. Her own kisses are proof enough. She pecks and that's all. She doesn't know that one can go further than that. And he doesn't want to have to introduce her to something so overwhelming and stressful just because of his own selfish wants.

But like this—he presses an open-mouthed kiss just a little higher, feeling the growth of goose bumps under his tongue—this is all he can do. He's not bringing her any pain; he's making it go away. And at the same time, he's touching her like he's never touched her before.

Ahiru's feet really are nice, he admits to himself again. And her skin is just—

"A-ahh…"

He freezes, suddenly realizing that he's already halfway up to her knee. For a second he stays there, but then pulls back to find her cheeks much more flush than usual. Her eyes have grown half-lidded at some point. "What are…?"

"Sorry," he sputters out, blood also rushing to his face and averting his eyes. He really is an idiot himself, if he can't do something simple as kissing pain away without making her feel uncomfortable.

But then he suddenly hears a quiet whisper breaking the silence, "N-no, it… it makes the pain stop…" He feels her shifting awkwardly in her spot from his hold on her foot. "You can… keep going, if you want?"

Fakir looks at her for a few more moments. And he can feel her heart pounding wildly through the pulse in the back of her foot. Adding with her rosy cheeks and lazy eyes…

Was she really…?

But then she squirmed a little, dejected that the throb of pain was slowly coming back to life, and he immediately went back to the top of her foot, kissing lightly at the edge of her toes.

When he's moving back up on her leg again, he hesitantly allows his kisses to be deeper, more longing. He can taste more of her, and it's enough to leave him craving. Knowing that it was the only area of her skin he could fully appreciate. To add to it, he allows a hand to start gliding down her calf, and he feels her shiver. It honestly makes him hold back a groan. He wants her so bad and her feet are perfect and  _she_ is perfect and—

The fingers of his other hand trickle down the sole of her foot unthinkingly, and in a sudden burst of involuntary reaction, Ahiru squeals into the room and kicks him in the face.

Fakir doesn't have the patience to explain the sudden foot-shaped mark on his cheek the next day.


End file.
